Back to the Beginning
by UnseenCharacters
Summary: When a job goes wrong, you always go back to the beginning... but what was that beginning for Inigo?


_After a nightmare about Eastenders of all things – no I don't watch it, I was just in the room while it was on – the Insomnia Fairy has informed me that she will not be leaving until I write something. So, here we go._

**Back to the Beginning**

Inigo was in despair.

Not the country this time, just the state of mind. Returning to Despair had reminded him so much of Giulietta, who he had last seen shortly before his first visit to Despair, that he'd felt compelled to go back to Italy to see her. He'd told himself that it was in the best interests of his quest that he do so; after all, Giuletta was a noblewoman, she might well have heard of the six-fingered nobleman by now and be able to point him in the right direction.

Since he was little more than a boy, he'd dreamed of a dark-haired woman with kind dark eyes who kept him company as he travelled and helped keep the loneliness at bay – a woman just like Giulietta. Since he'd started drinking, though, he hardly ever remembered his dreams, so he _was_ feeling terribly lonely, and that just made him drink all the more.

Making his way back to Giulietta lifted his spirits somewhat, though, and he'd drunk a lot less on the journey. When Castle Cardinale was finally in view, his heart felt lighter than it had in years. He drew no attention at first, most of the village was within the castle's outer walls, and traders and travellers came and went all the time. The defences were, really, just for show. Inigo wandered up to the main entrance to the castle proper and stopped, staring. There in the courtyard, getting ready for a day out riding, was Giulietta. Older, yes, but still every bit as beautiful, looking wonderfully regal mounted on her horse while servants fussed around her ignored as she talked to a girl of perhaps twelve mounted on a slightly smaller horse.

Inigo was about to step forward when twin boys of around seven, also dressed as noblemen, rode out from the stables. One boy was pulling faces at the other, who was doing his best to ignore it and look like a serious nobleman. The expression was quite comical on so small a child.

It would be rude to interrupt now, Inigo thought, when they were clearly getting ready to ride out – he would wait for them to return, and talk to Giulietta then. He was about to walk away, to find something to do in the village while he waited – not a tavern, he promised himself – when finally, the serious twin could take no more of his brother's teasing and lashed out at him, which made the horses shy and prance around.

Giulietta yelled at them both, threatening them with their father, and the girl said something to her, her expression kind, and in that moment looked so very much like Giulietta had when he'd first seen her, that Inigo's heart broke. He wanted to believe that he was mistaken, but he was sure he was not – Giulietta had married, years before, and these were her children.

He wanted to run, to get as far away from the castle as he could, but somehow he couldn't seem to move, he just kept staring. The girl had the boys shake hands, and apologise to Giulietta – the expressions on small boys made to apologise for something were unmistakeable even at this distance, and were, it seemed, to be found even on young noblemen. Then, a nobleman rode out of the stables, tall, broad-shouldered and handsome, and the Cardinale crest clearly visible on his horse's finery.

Inigo simply stood there, no longer really hearing or seeing anything, as his world crumbled around his ears. How had he not known? How could he have been stupid enough to think that she would wait for him so long? To think that she would wait at all for a peasant when she had her pick of noblemen? He barely reacted when castle guards came to get rid of him so the nobles could ride out. He didn't struggle or draw his sword or even try to save himself from falling when they threw him into a muddy ditch. It seemed like the right place to be. After a while, he was fished out by a couple of burly villagers, and sent on his way.

In the next town, he found a tavern, cleaned himself up, got blind drunk, woke up with a hangover and travelled as far as he could before sundown, a process he repeated until he found himself in Florin. Sometimes he even remembered to ask about the six-fingered man before he started drinking. In Florin, he forgot. Forgetting was good. Forgetting meant that for a while he didn't have to remember that he was the biggest idiot in the world, more than thirty years old and with no woman, no trade, no home, and unable to find the six-fingered man.

The tavern was more or less empty when he arrived, aside from a woman sat alone, pushing a rather unappetising-looking stew around the bowl with a bent spoon. He ordered his drink and sat at the bar. The woman finally threw down her spoon in disgust, and attempted to order a drink for herself.

She obviously didn't speak any Florinese, and was having trouble making the barkeep understand what she wanted. Inigo didn't recognise the language she was speaking either, which was unusual. She threw up her hands, then tried to mime what she wanted, but that didn't seem to get through either.

"Jus' give her a beer," Inigo said, but didn't look at her. If her tone of voice was anything to go by, though, she was rather more impressed by the beer than by the food. She came over to Inigo to thank him, apparently assuming that he'd understood her. He was only going by her tone and expression that she was thanking him. He tried talking to her in French, Spanish, Dutch, and a couple of other languages he'd picked up a little of, but she didn't seem to understand any of them. Nor did she seem to be going away.

He ordered another drink, and wondered if he could figure out some of her language. It sounded like a germanic language had been hanging around in dark alleys and mugging romance languages for spare words, but getting them all bent up in the process. He picked up his drink and indicated her table, and they went back to it.

As with most women, he found that she was quite content to sit and chatter away while he listened, saying next to nothing. It seemed that she was quite upset about something, and wanted to talk about it, whether he understood her or not. The barkeep kept the drinks coming, and after a while Inigo found himself thinking that she had quite nice eyes. When at last she seemed to have run out of things to babble about, Inigo found himself trying to teach her a little Spanish.

"Me llamo Íñigo Montoya," he said, pointing at himself. Then tipped his head to the side, and with a quizzical expression continued, "¿Cómo se llama usted?"

Her answer sounded something like "Mí yarmoh Kezerín," but close enough. "Encantado de conocerla," he replied with a small bow, and she repeated it. He started trying to explain the gender differences in what she should say, but wasn't getting very far. He started trying to indicate with sign language that she should be saying 'encantada de conocerlo' instead, miming male and female body shapes. Her hair was starting to come loose from its clasp, so she took it out but fumbled trying to put it back in, so picked it up, put it in her pocket, and shook her hair loose instead, laughing at Inigo's mimes.

He swallowed, suddenly embarrassed by the hourglass his hands had been tracing. How had he not noticed how pretty she was until her dark hair was tumbling over her shoulders like that? His reaction hadn't gone unnoticed, either, and he felt himself blush. She reached out and ran a finger down one of his scars with a smile, then took his hand and said something, stroking his hand gently with her thumb.

He didn't need to understand the words, he simply nodded. She stood, not letting go of his hand and led him upstairs leaving their drinks forgotten on the table. Once they were alone, he let out all his rage at himself and Giulietta and all the hurt of being alone. He hadn't needed to be alone for so long, this was far from the first woman who had propositioned him, but until now he had always refused them.

He was rough with her, far more so than he had ever dreamed of being with a woman or even thought himself capable of, but she seemed to like it and responded to it with her own passion. Soon enough there was no rage or hurt left, only the desire. Late at night, or possibly early in the morning, he left the room in search of more drink to bring back for them to share. The sight of her laid there on the rumpled bed, flushed and exhausted, was one he was sure he would never forget.

Had he been thinking more clearly, then perhaps he might have had more that just that memory. He caught the barkeep as he was leaving the bar, having finished clearing it up, and convinced him to give him a bottle, but the trouble was he then couldn't remember which room Kezerín had been in. The barkeep didn't know, and the rest of the staff had all gone to bed long before. He wandered round a little, trying to find some part of the inn which looked familiar, but after he knocked into a dresser in the dark a merchant woke and threw him out.

In the street, he opened the bottle and started to drink it alone. The trouble with Inigo when left alone with an open bottle, though, was that he would soon be alone with an _empty_ bottle. A passing night watchman moved him on from his spot outside the inn, and he ended up falling asleep under a bush a couple of hundred yards away.

He woke late, feeling even more ill than usual, and stumbled back towards the inn. When he finally convinced them to let him in, he found that the woman had left a couple of hours before. He didn't carry much when he travelled, and he'd put his sword back on before leaving her room as an automatic part of getting dressed, so that at least he'd not needed to worry about, but he did want to try to explain to the woman and apologise. He asked the staff if they knew where she had been headed, but they'd just shrugged and said she was a foreigner no-one had understood and thrown him out again. He didn't really blame them, he wasn't exactly at his cleanest.

Not knowing what else to do, he headed on through Florin, in the same direction he'd originally been going. When he reached Florin City, he found that the money he had left simply wasn't enough for city prices, and was given directions towards the 'forest settlement'. When he got there, he found that it was the notorious thieves' forest. He rented a tiny shack then spent the last of his money on a bottle of brandy and proceeded to get blind drunk again. He wasn't too concerned about his lack of money, this seemed like the sort of place where he could easily make some cash challenging all-comers with his fencing skill, and if not, there was always someone who needed some odd job or other done.

Tomorrow came and went, though, and he'd made no real money, just enough to buy another bottle. The pattern repeated for a few more days, each day Inigo making a little less money than the last. Finally, he found himself still trying to convince someone to give him some paying work when the sun was setting. He'd not the money to pay for his drink, and found himself trying to convince the shopkeeper to give him credit. He was thrown out, and picking himself up he heard laughter.

He looked up, and there was a tiny but well-dressed man sat on a barrel, holding a bottle of brandy. Not the cheap stuff he'd been buying, either, a proper one with a fancy label.

"I might have a job for you..." he said, smiling. Inigo didn't much like his smile, but he'd opened the bottle and he could smell the alcohol.

"What sort of work?" he managed, dragging his gaze away from the bottle.

"I need an... assistant," he said. "As you can see, I am not exactly the finest specimen of a man physically. That's where you come in. Am I right in thinking that you're the famous swordsman Inigo Montoya? That's certainly a fine weapon you have..."

"I am," Inigo replied, still suspicious. "Might I know who you are?"

"My name," he said with a slight bow, which looked quite ridiculous perched as he was on the barrel, "is Vizzini. Explaining the job at hand will take a while...," he said, closing the bottle. "If you'll join me at the tavern for a drink, I can explain things at my leisure and you can meet my other assistant, Fezzik..."

The little man hopped down and putting his arm around Inigo's back – he couldn't reach his shoulders – led him off towards the tavern. "There will be some payment as we go, but this job will be very lucrative when we complete it, and with my brains, Fezzik's strength and your steel, for anything else to occur would be simply _inconceivable_. However, the first thing you have to remember is that if a job _does_ go wrong, you go back to the beginning..."

_I marked this complete, but on the train to work this morning, I came up with a continuation. If anyone's interested, I'll see about writing it up, but if not, it can wait until the Insomnia Fairy comes back. _


End file.
